


In the Early Morning

by Humanity_Sucks2002



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Drunk Sex, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, My First Fanfic, Post-Coital Cuddling, Regret, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-04-05 02:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19039522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Humanity_Sucks2002/pseuds/Humanity_Sucks2002
Summary: Lord Voldemort wakes up to a little surprise.





	In the Early Morning

Floating awake, it took several seconds for him to realise something was wrong. Well not wrong exactly- something was different. Moonlight streamed through a window whose curtains hadn’t been closed. Silvery light waltzed through the glass and onto his face intrusively. It was his custom to close all the curtains before going to bed for precisely this reason; beauty sleep is important.  
A second difference to the norm was that he was stark naked, with no bed covers to cover him. Due to this, goose pimples covered his body; his breath was visible in icy clouds and he even shivered slightly. As he drifted more and more back to consciousness, the more it became obvious that not only were the curtains not closed but, the window was also ajar. Rustling leaves the hoot of a nearby owl and the occasional splash of water from the outside fountain came together in a harmony of the night. Had he not been confused about why things were so different, it would have been a pleasant sound.  
The room was not, however, completely devoid of heat; the heat was derived from a rather peculiar place. He was not alone and this was far more out of the ordinary that he would care to admit.  
Fast asleep- dead to the world- a familiar face lay. She, like him, was also completely naked and covered in gooseflesh. Her creamy skin seemed to glow a little in the intrusive moonlight as he looked her up and down. Black curls cascaded from her head and framed her face perfectly. An elegant, haughty face. One that looked oddly calm compared to the fury and excitement normally portrayed by its features. Her left arm lay extended towards him not quite touching. The inner forearm bore the mark. Black ink in the shape of a skull and a snake stood in contrast to her extremely pale skin.  
Trying not to wake her, he sat up slowly and reached for his wand. It was positioned next to him on the bedside tabled (one thing was normal at least). With a slight flick of the magical instrument, the window eased itself shut and locked. Another flick brought a black, silk dressing gown to his hand. The only noise was the swish of the fabric and her very slight snores.  
How had this happened? He struggled to put together the events leading up to this point. A heavy drumming in his head lead him to believe alcohol was most likely involved but, the exact memories escaped him. As if the confirm his suspicions, by the window he spotted a (decidedly empty) bottle of firewhiskey and two shot glasses. Wrapping the robe about himself, he stood up slowly. The sudden change in pressure on the bed caused her eyes to flutter open for a second. Only half awake, dark eyes flickered towards him questioningly.  
“My Lord?” A croaky whisper escaped her lips.  
“Go back to sleep, Bella. I’ll be back in a minute.” He replied, almost reassuringly. She nodded, closing her eyes once more and almost instantly slipping back into dreamland. A sudden, and rather unexpected, urge to protect her caused him to grab the discarded duvet from the floor and place it over her sleeping form. He would later tell himself it was to make sure he didn’t have his best lieutenant off duty with a cold- nothing more. In the moment however, he smiled to himself and walked into the ensuite.  
The artificial light of the bathroom burned his eyes as he turned the light switch. Blinking quickly and rubbing his throbbing temple, Lord Voldemort staggered over to the sink and switched on the cold tap. The memories we starting (slowly) to come back and he hoped that the cold water to face would aid in their swift return. Why did he do this? Meetings were going to be really awkward if he didn’t so something quickly. Bellatrix had no concept of subtlety.  
“Maybe I should just kill her- nobody would ever know about this.” He thought but quickly dismissed the idea. Too much cover up would be involved and that would mean all the hours training Bella would have been a waste. “I could wipe her memory,” was his next thought. No. Too much alcohol may have already done that. Also, even if he wiped her memory she would still wake up in his room and it wasn’t practical to take her back to her own room while she was asleep and not wake up the rest of the house while doing it. “I could torture her into not telling anyone-“that would work if it wasn’t Bellatrix. He had taught her too well; Bellatrix could throw off pretty much ant curse he threw at her. With a sigh and a shake of his head, Lord Voldemort rejected all of his ideas and excited the bathroom.  
Bellatrix has turned onto her side in her sleep. She now faced the window- curled up in the foetal position. It was almost comical to Lord Voldemort; she was a terrifying, powerful, sociopathic warrior in her waking hours but in her sleep she looked so innocent. No. He wasn’t going to hurt her. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, trying to decide whether he should go back to the bed or not. As if to answer his question, a clap of thunder echoed outside violently. In response, he walked quietly over to the bed and got back in.  
For a few minutes he lay there, stiff as a corpse, puzzling over the situation he was currently in. In his self-introspection, Voldemort did not notice Bellatrix turning again in her sleep, back towards him. Nor did he notice her moving closer to him in the bed. It was only when her arm extended over him did she realise she was moving. Momentarily startled by her touch Voldemort just stared at her.  
“Very bold of you Bella.” He thought. He did nothing though, just watched her. Gently, he extracted his right arm from between Bellatrix’s body and his own before wrapping it around her. In the morning- he would deal with this in the morning. For the minute, he would just enjoy this. His most loyal lieutenant in his arms, the dark lord slipped slowly back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first delve into fanfiction- any constructive criticism is welcomed :)


End file.
